The Thanksgiving Table

Nana's Thanksgiving table was always perfectly set - a handmade crocheted lace tablecloth over felt with a centerpiece of silver candlesticks and artifical fruit. She brought out the heavy linen napkins and crystal water glasses, used only the good silver and the fine china. Every place setting was aligned, every juice glass just so and she always remembered the butter knives. She tolerated no help in arranging the table - it was a labor of love.

She served mashed and sweet potatoes with real butter, onions in a thich cream sauce, and fresh peas. A basket of hand made dinner rolls sat at one end of the table and a crystal platter of olives, celery and cheese at the other. There was tomato juice or apple cider to drink. Dessert was apple, mince and pumpkin pies that she had made that very morning, served with coffe laced with brandy. The turkey was carved by hand - no electric carving knife at Nana's table and no casual dress. Thanksgiving was a dress up holiday. After her death, we had Thanksgiving dinner out or ate off rickety card tables covered with plastic tablecloths - she must've turned in her grave at the sight. My mother never wanted to do the work involved and always claimed that it ruined the day for her to spend it mostly in the kitchen. Although I'm not much for traditions, I do think of and miss that one - Nana's house at Thanksgiving was warm with love and the smell of freshly baked bread. I still remember the cranberry sauce as it was only thing she store bought and the silver two piece gravy boat with the ladle. The serving of alcohol was kept to a bare minimum - Nana paid attention.

After dinner, the adults read or watched football or knitted or napped while Nana cleaned the kitchen, again with precious little help. She was particular and I suspect didn't believe anyone else could do it up to her standards.
Traditions change with time and circumstances and my current Thanksgiving Day one is to sleep late, eat whatever's on hand, and spend the day with the cats and dogs.

Nana would be appalled .... but she'd get over it.